⎯ The Divine of Judgment⎯ || BSD x Reader

Yokohama Gangster Paradise | 007 |

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[ Chapter 7 || Yokohama Gangster Paradise ]

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"Hey, brat," Atsushi heard Kunikida say as he stowed a camera away in the evidence bag. He paused for a moment, surprised by the familiar tone. "Kunikida, what's wrong?" he asked, turning to face the blonde. "It's not that I lack sympathy for your misfortunate, underserved life. As a result, I'll give you some advice on how to survive in this city." From his notebook, he took out a picture of a young man. "Don't run into him. If you do, run."

Atsushi accepted the photo when Kunikida held it out to him. Atsushi scrutinized the individual in the photograph, taking note of every detail. The man had short, jagged black hair that fell to his chin and was trimmed with white bangs. His eyes were a shade of dark, empty gray, sharp, and a little baggy. He was dressed in a long, black coat that extended past his knees, along with black dress shoes and well-fitting black slacks. On top of his white dress shirt, he wore a layered ruffled fabric that added a touch of elegance to his overall appearance.

Atsushi's gut twisted as he realized that something was off. "Who is he?" he asked, trying to play it cool. As [Y/n] entered the room, her eyes scanned the space, taking in the tension in the air. She tilted his head to the side, studying Atsushi's face, before making her way over to him. She carried a small army of papers and folders in each arm, the weight of their burden evident even from a distance. With each step, the sound of crinkling paper and shuffling files filled the air, a constant reminder of the work that lay ahead.

At that moment, she caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the photo he was holding. It was none other than Akutagawa. [Y/n]'s eyes bore into the photo, intense and unwavering. Her sharp gaze betrayed her disgust; intrigue was etched into the creases of her forehead. He was on the prowl again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he struck.

"A mafioso." [Y/n] finally replied as she made her way over to Dazai, who was now seated at the edge of the desk. Dazai was wearing his vibrant red headphones, and [Y/n] could hear the sound of music or a podcast emanating from them. "Though we call them that because we know nothing else," [Y/n] lied with a soft hum as she placed the papers and folders on the desk. She and Dazai exchanged a nod, and [Y/n] took a seat across from him.

[Y/n] cleared her throat, attempting to catch Dazai's attention, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, unaware of her gesture. She cleared her throat again, a little louder this time, but he still didn't seem to notice her. 'He's doing this on purpose.' she thought, feeling a bit annoyed. She decided to wait a few more moments before trying again, hoping he would snap out of it. 

Finally, Dazai peeled off his headphones and adjusted them to hang around his neck. "Sorry, I was lost in my music," he said with a sheepish grin. [Y/n] shoved a stack of paperwork into his arms, while rolling her eyes at his behavior. Dazai remained silent during the remainder of the conversation after hearing them talk about a certain person. [Y/n] was aware that the person in question had a complicated history with both Dazai and herself.